


Bedfordshire

by missdibley



Series: Panic: A Series of One-Shots Set in London (except for the one set in Edinburgh) [8]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fluff, London, Making Out, Snogging, intercourse, snowglobe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:59:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>RND!Tom and Carmen get ready to say goodbye as he leaves for Toronto and she flies home to the States.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedfordshire

It was our last day in London together. I wasn’t scheduled to fly back to Chicago until the day after next so I felt enough at leisure to sit in bed, dicking around on Tumblr, while Tom packed for Toronto. He turned to look at me, and I smiled at him.

“You’re sure I can’t convince you?”

“I’m sure you can, as I know for a fact that you are quite persuasive. But I made a promise to Mrs. Harper.”

Tom came over from the dresser and sat on the edge of the bed beside me. He picked up my hand and rubbed it against his cheek. “And you deserve it. You’ll have a wonderful time. But this, the circus, it’s all about to start. I’ve got two movies premiering…”

“I know,” I whispered. “You’re gonna be great. And I’ll be thinking of you every second. ”

He smiled. “When you’re not screaming your head off while you cheer on Serena Williams at the US Open, right?”

“Exactly. I hope Mrs. Harper doesn’t regret asking me to join her this weekend.” I looked at the floor behind him. His suitcase was still open. “You almost done?”

“Just about.” Tom frowned. “I can’t find my blue t-shirt.” He peered at me when I avoided his gaze. “Madam.”

“Mmm?” I kissed his hand.

“Where is my shirt?”

“It may be balled up under my pillow.” I sniffed. “Next to Boh.”

“Ah.” Tom nodded, then kissed me on the forehead. “Take care of it for me?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, but Boh might do something with it…”

“What is your plush mouse doll going to do with my t-shirt?”

“Fashion it into a toga and wear it to a party with his other stuffed animal friends?”

“Quite a strange turn this conversation has taken.”

“So what else is new?” I laughed, then patted the spot next to me. “Come on, buddy. Time for bed.”

Tom crawled over me, cackling as I groaned under his weight. “Oh, you love it when I do this.”

“I suppose I do,” I mused. “If only because I’ve changed my goal weight…”

“You have a goal weight?” Tom arched his eyebrow at me.

“Sure. It used to be just slightly less than the maximum to get on the rides at Disneyland.” I grinned when Tom laughed. “And now it’s just… whatever I happen to weigh… as long as you’re lying on top of me.” I squealed when Tom jumped on me, planting sloppy kisses on my neck. “Dork!”

“A title I assume with pride, thank you very much.” Tom settled down on his side of the bed. He plucked a book off the nightstand, then slid his arm around me. I snuggled into him.

“What are you reading?”

“The Metamorphoses.” Tom flipped the book over to examine the cover. “You’ve read it?”

I nodded. “Ages ago. First in middle school English, then in high school Latin when we were learning how to translate.”

Tom looked at me. “Favorite bit?”

“Pyramus and Thisbe. Book four, I think.”

He opened the book, flipping around until he found it. “Good memory.”

“I do enjoy a good love story, even if it does end sadly like this one.” I kissed his shoulder. “Read some of it to me?”

“Of course, love.” Tom kissed my temple, cleared his throat and began to read.

> [There, many a time, they stood on either side,](http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.02.0028%3Abook%3D4%3Acard%3D55)  
>  _Thisbe on one and Pyramus the other,_  
>  _and when their warm breath touched from lip to lip,_  
>  _their sighs were such as this: “Thou envious wall_  
>  _why art thou standing in the way of those_  
>  _who die for love? What harm could happen thee_  
>  _shouldst thou permit us to enjoy our love?_  
>  _But if we ask too much, let us persuade_  
>  _that thou wilt open while we kiss but once:_  
>  _for, we are not ungrateful; unto thee_  
>  _we own our debt; here thou hast left a way_  
>  _that breathed words may enter loving ears,”_  
>  _so vainly whispered they, and when the night_  
>  _began to darken they exchanged farewells;  
>  _ _made presence that they kissed a fond farewell  
>  _ _vain kisses that to love might none avail._

“Beautiful. Just like I remembered.” I sniffed.

“Your turn.” Tom set the book down and looked at me.

“You want me to read something to you?” When he nodded, I frowned. “You know, I feel like I should have prepared for this, But then I’d have to admit to being romantic enough that this is something that I’ve dreamed about doing.”

“Reading to me?” He whispered. “You’ve fantasized about reading to me?”

I blushed. “Yeah.”

Tom took my hand in his, then lifted it up to his lips.

“But I don’t know…”

“Darling, you could read the phone book and I’d be content.”

“It’s 2015. Who even has a phone book anymore?”

“It could be anything.” Tom smiled at me. “Please?”

“Okay.” I sat up, taking my laptop off the nightstand and placing it on my lap. I launched a browser window and stared at it for a moment, then two. Then I had it. Tom leaned his head on my shoulder, eyes following my fingers as I typed and clicked until I found what I was looking for.

“So… this is one of my favorite writers. She wrote these beautiful stories, mostly about love, but in a sentimental way that wasn’t goopy.”

“Wrote? She doesn’t write anymore?”

I shook my head. “She died years ago so… no more stories, I’m sad to say. I liked reading her stuff over and over again when I was single.”

“And now that you’re not?”

“I still do. If only so I can compare…” I bit my lip. “Her description of being in love with…” I closed my eyes. “Compare it to the experience of, well, actually being in love.”

“Oh Carmen…”

“Hush.” I murmured. “Listen.”

> _[“If it is true that you can feel a wave of love, I did.](http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1975/03/24/travel-3) I felt my heart being torn open, and I accepted it. It was something that happened without consequence, so I let it happen. On that particular day, my vision of these matters was particularly bleak, and I did not believe that any virtue came of chance meetings or accidents of destiny. But suddenly I felt intelligible to another person… It was only a moment, but I was grateful. It is not everyone who gets a moment of unexpected understanding…”_

I wiped a few tears from my eyes, then set my laptop aside. “Don’t you see?” I whispered. “I may not be there with you in Toronto, holding your hand. But you’re here.” I took Tom’s hand and pressed it to my breast, right over my heart. I turned to look at him. “I’ve got you.”

I kissed him. And when I kissed him I found I couldn’t stop. I felt hungry, ravenous all of a sudden. In that moment I needed him. When he broke the kiss just so he could tug off his t-shirt and kick off his pyjama bottoms, I whined until he could touch me again. He ran his hands over my shoulders and then my breasts as I pulled my nightgown off.

“Tom…” I whispered, and he ran his hands through my hair. I moved so he could lie on top of me, so he could make himself comfortable, at home. I shut my eyes as I slipped my arms around him, inhaling the scent of his skin, committing him to memory. He wasn’t due to leave until the next day but I had already begun to miss him.

“Car,” he sighed before kissing my neck. His hands made their way slowly down my body, lingering on my breasts again before skimming my hips and belly. I was wet, soaking actually, by the time I felt his fingers brush against my clit. I opened to Tom as he hovered above me, pushing up on his arms so he could thrust into me, hard and fast. I cried out and he kissed my ear. “Sorry, love, did I…?”

I shook my head. “No… I just need to feel you. I need you to feel me.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I do.”

“I…” I moaned as he slowed down and rolled his hips. It felt so good. “Oh fuck…”

Tom lowered himself onto me so I could feel him all over. But I still ached. I needed more than his physical presence, more than his lovemaking, I needed to feel how much he needed me. How much he would miss me. I needed to feel and know the truth of those feelings because that’s how I felt, and I didn’t want to be alone in loving him, in needing him and missing him like I did.

I was so caught up in not wanting to feel alone that  I was startled when I felt his tears falling on my face. His eyes were wide and focused, almost like he was seeing me for the first time. He was taking in everything, looking at my lips or my nose or my ears before he would tenderly kiss that spot. Eventually, he stopped moving his hips and all we did was kiss. He licked the back of my ear, and I started laughing so he laughed too. I pushed him off me so I could lie next to him, head on his chest, and listen to his heart.

“What am I going to do without you?” Tom tapped the top of my head, and I looked up at him.

“It’s simple,” I whispered. “You rend your garments and refuse to do interviews and photo calls until I appear at your side.”

“Great. I’ll tell Luke to put that in all of my contracts.” He laughed. “But seriously…”

“When you’re feeling lonely, you mean?” I thought about it, staring at the ceiling. “Well, just know that when you feel that way, so will I. When you feel a little weird and mean because you want to talk to me but you can’t, I’ll be feeling the same way. And I’m telling you now, I’m preemptively jealous because you’re going to be spending time with, you know, what’s her name…”

“You needn’t worry about me.”

“It’s not you, it’s her. You’re pretty fucking irresistible, Thomas William Hiddleston. She may get a little close to you at a press conference or something and I may not be able to stop myself from buying a plane ticket I didn’t budget for, flying to wherever you are, and jumping you right in front of everybody just to show the world you’re mine.”

Tom tipped my chin up to him. He smiled. “You promise?”

I scooted up so I could kiss him on the lips. “I promise.” I kissed him again. “Always.”

* * *

The next afternoon, I helped Tom with his bags. By which I mean, he carried his suitcases down to the front door while I scurried about the house. When he flopped down on the couch to wait for the car to take him to the airport, I appeared in front of him.

“Oh, so _now_ you help with the luggage?” Tom quirked his eyebrow at me.

“Sorry, sir.” I giggled when he groaned.

“Oh Button…” Tom sighed as I crawled into his lap.

“Button?”

Tom kissed my nose. “I was thinking I don’t have a pet name for you.”

“What about Brat?”

“That’s for play, Car. Button is for… not for work, but for life. For real.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “Is it because I’m cute as a button?”

“Half right,” Tom whispered. He ran his fingers through my hair while I sat there wondering. What did he mean by half right?

And then I got it.

“OH MY GOD. ARE YOU SERIOUS?” I tried to get out of his lap but he grabbed me around the hips with his massive hands and pulled me back onto him.

“You don’t like it?” Tom murmured as he kissed the back of my neck.

“I didn’t say that.” I crossed my arms.

“What’s wrong, then?”

“Honestly, you give me this adorable nickname. Something you can call me, could even use in front of people, and yet there’s this naughty angle to it that makes me, an actual grown woman, blush just to think about. Which means it’s perfect coming from you.”

“I still don’t understand…”

“It’s a perfect gift.” I shook my head. “And I feel dumb because all I got you was this.”

I pulled out the small fabric bag I’d been hiding in my bra. It was made of grey satin, and edged in red piping.

“What’s this?”

“Something for your luggage. Or your keys.” I shrugged. “It’s a little nothing.”

Tom opened the bag and withdrew his present. It was a tiny snowglobe, just large enough to hold 2 ounces of water with glitter mixed in.

“Is that…?” He asked.

I nodded. “I found somebody on Etsy who makes miniatures. It’s a baby version of your snowglobe.” We both looked at the snowglobe sitting on his coffee table. [The one that appeared mysteriously in his refrigerator one day.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4653450/chapters/10614756) In it, Baloo from _The Jungle Book_ danced with Boh from _Spirited Away_. “She was able to carve a tiny Baloo and a tiny Boh for this one. You can take it with you. See?”

“Carmen.” Tom whispered in my ear. When I turned to him he kissed me, tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth until my lips parted to let him in. I slipped my arms around him, rubbing his back slowly as we kissed, until he had to go.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a mini-fic as an epilogue. It's available only on tumblr here - <http://oeffsee.tumblr.com/post/128864350768/friday-afternoon-mini-fic-a-text-message-exchange>.


End file.
